Bound to be Freed
by Colleenica
Summary: Everything was perfect, Beatrice was happy living her regular life. But then the accident happened and everything changed. With a blank past, how will she be contented with just a future to write? Then... a pair of blue eyes so familiar yet unidentifiable suddenly makes Tris find herself desperate for answers and everything will change, once again. (Previously A Month With Burgers)
1. Chapter 1

"I can't believe we're actually doing this."

She just laughs at me.

I rephrase what I said. "I meant I can't believe I'm doing this. With you."

"Oh come on, Tris. It's going to be fun. I swear." Christina tells me.

"Uh-huh. We could get arrested, ya know." I remind her. Is fun an enough excuse to damage your own record?

"What? It's not like we put poison in them? Don't be such a kill-joy. And just trust me. We've been best friends since..." She trails off. "See, I can't even remember. Must've been a long, long time ago."

I chuckle. "Christina, we've been best friends since seventh grade which was two years ago. And if we get into any trouble, I'm blaming you."

She nods. "Okay. But if you run into someone cute, you'd be thanking me. And the money we'll earn will be added to our savings."

She hands me the wagon. "Here," she orders me. "you go and drag this. Unless you want to be the one to talk."

I shake my head. "You can do it." I latch my fingers around the handle and we head towards house no. 1 with the wheels of the wagon full of cardboard boxes cackling on the gravel.

Christina rings the doorbell and we wait. There's a sound of shuffling feet then a crash and then a loud bang from indside. I stare at Christina wide-eyed and she just shrugs, her face indiferent. The door opens and reveals a boy I think I've seen before but I can't place him. He's probably a foot taller than me, his eyes are even browner than his skin. I would describe him as the black version of Shaggy. Except his hair is all curls and as black as a raven. That leads me to questioning why everyone is white in Scooby-Doo. Except for Scooby-Doo himself. And that thought leads me to thinking how thoughts trigger other thoughts so fast "Hi. I'm Christina and this is Tris," she points to me and I force a nervous smile, " and we were wondering if you'd like to buy some cookies."

He nods slightly. "Uh.. Sure." He looks at the wagon. "What flavors do you got?"

Christina holds out her list. "Walnut, hazelnut, chocolate chip, choco mint, caramel, macadamia, coconut, lemon, and fruit and nut. They go in boxes of six."

She sounds so used to this, I can't imagine how many times she's repeatedly done this around different unknown neighborhoods. "I'll take one choco mint." He tells us and I grab the green box and hand it over to him.

"That will be three dollars." Chris tells him.

He reaches through his back pocket and finds a crupled five dollar change. Christina gives the change.

"Thank you. Have a nice day." And he shuts the door. Chris marks a number one beside choco mint.

We leave the house. I ask her, "Who was that?"

"Mark Johnson. Senior. Repeated a year since he flunked science."

I nod. We go on to the next house. It's a one story house. The lawn is beautiful and grand. The bushes are trimmed, there's a large bed of different flowers and there's actually a flamigo standing right there, just beside the table covered by a huge patio umbrella. A flamingo. I point to it and give Chris a look. She scrunches her nose with a shrug. I ring the doorbell before Christina does, just because it looks so fancy.

After about ten seconds, the brown wooden door opens. I get a quick glance of the inside. It looks so modern and the air is so cool and floats out toward us. I inhale the air conditioned coldness.

"Christina!" Says the boy in front of us. He looks about our age.

"Al," Christina smiles. "This is Tris." She gestures to me.

He's so tall, even taller than the black Shaggy, that I have to look up. His shoulders are broad, his masculinity gives him contrast since he acts so gentle, the way he smiles, the way his hands move, the way he nods. He sticks out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

I'm not used to this, shaking hands. It's such a formal act. But I shake his hand anyway, hoping my grip wasn't too tight or to loose. Is two shakes enough?

He smiles and pulls back. His cheeks are so red, even when the airconditioning is so cold.

"So what you got?" He turns to Christina.

She hands him the list instead of verbalizing. He takes it and I raise my eyebrows at Chris. She holds up two fingers at me and puts them together, trying to tell me something like "We're close, he won't mind."

I just nod. And Al orders.

Suprisingly, he orders one of each flavor. So that's three dollars times nine which leads to the twenty-seven dollars in my hands now. We're already walking away from Al's yet I still don't know why someone would buy that much. Christina watches me.

"They have three maids, a cook, and a gardener. Plus a sister."

I nod slowly then stuff the cash in my back pocket.

"So," I say and pull my hair out of its ponytail, "you guys close?"

"Ah," she says, checking her list then spins to the right and continues to walk. "Yeah, he's in a private school. My mom teaches debate there. I've known him since we were ten."

"Well, does he know where these cookies came from?"

She grins evilly. "Who does?"

I let out a disbelieving laugh. "Us!"

She sighs. "Yeah. They aren't homemade... So?"

"That's whats stated on each pack. We are lying to them."

"Oh," her face is amused, "Beatrice Prior, feeling guilty?"

I grimace. "Don't call me that."

"Okay." She puts her hands up in surrender.

The next house is two-stories high but there is no garden like Al's. Christina knocks in the dark blue door since there's no bell to ring.

Green eyes meet ours. Another boy answers the door.

Christina stands frozen. Her eyes widen and she blinks them. Her foot jiggles and she glances at me. Why isn't she talking? I clear my throat. She still doesn't speak. It's so weird, she was never able to shut her mouth most times.

I talk. "Hi. I'm Tris and this is Christina and we were wondering if you would want to buy some."

He smiles and a dimple appears on his right cheek. "Okay. Which flavor would you prefer?" He asks this spesifically to Christina, I notice.

She blinks two times first then squeezes her cheeks together with her left hand, takes a deep breath then answers. "The macadamia is the best. In my opinion."

He nods. "I guess I'll take two of those."

Christina grins. "Great."

She grabs fir the two boxes so enthustiastically as if she's in a play.

The blonde guy in front of us gets out his wallet and hands over ten dollars to me.

"Keep the change," he tells us.

"What," Christina asks. "No, um. It's just six dollars and I- it- um..." She stutters. Christina never stutters.

He shakes his head with a small smile. "No keep it, Christina."

She bites her lip, something she does to hide her smile, I notice. "Thank you..."

"Will." He nods his head at me. "Thanks for the cookies."

He shuts the door. Christina looks at me, her eyes wider than I've ever seen. But then the door opens again.

"Wait," Will says. "Could I ask for your number? You know, so I would know if you get any new flavors."

Oh my God. If that was so, shouldn't he be the one to give Chris a number? He's asking for her number. Not because of cookies. But they pretend so.

Christina smiles, her cheeks a different color, writes it down and hands the piece of paper back. "Just text me if you've got any special flavor in mind."

He grins. "I will." And the door shuts, final for this time.

Christina turns to me then tackles me to the ground and squeals, her srms wrapped around my neck.

"Ow."

She hugs me tighter. "Woah, Chris. What the hell?"

She laughs then stands up. She grabs me by the arms. "I know. What the hell."

I grab the wagon and pull her with me, away from the door. She might not leave this house aanymor, the longer we stay.

"He got your number because he likes you and you know it."

She smiles. "I know!"

I shake my head. "I'm guessing he'd call you for dessert." I say with a smirk.

She bursts out laughing.

"What?" I ask.

She punches my arm. "You and your dirty little mind."

"What did I say?" I laugh innocently. "Cookies can be eaten as dessert, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

I realize something. "Wow, Chris. What's the probablity that every door we knock on is opened by a boy our age."

"Ninety-nine point nine."

Huh? I stay quiet, waiting for her to explain.

But then she reads her list. "Next off, Mason Gentry."

I gape at her. "So you actually have a list of who we're going to. And since it's a list, you know everybody we're going to talk cookies to..."

She nods with a grin. "Yes, Tris. It's the best way of stalking ever."

I laugh. "I don't know where I'll find another girl like you."

"You won't. I'm one in a zillion."

"Is that even a word?"

We go on until we reach the two-story blue house. And without a doubt, a boy opens. His eyes are brown and he's wearing a blue cap on top of his head.

After four more houses, we're left with three boxes of coconut, four of the lemon, two chocolate chip and one box of caramel.

Every door opened by a boy. And I won't lie, every one of them was cute.

And now I'm exhausted, considering the fact that I've been dragging this wagon up and down hill.

"Chris, I'm tired." I whine. My gray t-shirt is soaked. And I'm craving for a burger.

"Yeah me too. But this is the last one. I swear. And then we can go to Mcdonald's. My treat."

I perk up at that last part. "Really?"

"When did I ever lie to you, darlin?" She answers.

I laugh. "You just lied to all the people we sold this to."

"We," she tells me. "We lied. And we didn't really say that we baked them."

She starts walking toward a gray house. She knocks on the wooden door. For the first time, a girl answers.

"Hi," Christina says, taken aback. She glances at me before she repeats the speech about us selling cookies. Then the flavors.

The girl is probably ten years old so of course she would love cookies. But sadly, she doesn't have any money, as she says. Her voice is high and sweet, her brown eyes sparking sweetly. "Wait here," she tells us. "Maybe I can ask my brother." And she runs inside.

We wait there and I ask Christina, "Do you know who lives here?"

"Yeah, of course," she nods. "It's-"

Before she answers, a boy appears in front of the door, the little girl pulling on his hand.

I look at them. They're siblings? The only similarities they have are their hair colors which is brown and their hooked noses. Their eyes are so different, the little girls' light brown, the guys' is a deep shade of blue that reminds me of the ocean, but I'm not that sure as he keeps his gaze on his sister.

"Which one do you want, Katie?" The boy asks his sister. His voice is deep.

Katie points to the chocolate chip. "Please?"

He smiles lovingly at her. "Okay. But don't tell mom."

She nods excitedly. "I promise."

He turns toward us for the first time and I study him better when his eyes meet mine. His eyes aren't just a shade of deep blue. There's a patch of light blue just by his iris that I can't help but stare. He stares back and I get a weird feeling burning in my heart. But I don't look away, no. He reaches into his back pocket, his eyes still on me, a small smile on his face. He hands me the five dollar bill.

"Here." He says.

I take it and I still don't look away but I smile.

Katie tugs at his hand. "Tobias, thanks so much!"

He looks away and toward his sister. "No problem, kiddo."

She hugs the pack cloose to her chest and Christina hands him the change. "Thanks."

"Thank you," Katie tells us that causes me to grin.

"You're welcome." It seems as if she isn't allowed to eat sweets with the way she reacts.

Tobias closes the door and his eyes are the last thing I see before we're faced with gray.

"Tris," Christina pokes my arm.

"What?" I snap my head in her direction.

She laughs. "You look like you were hit by a lightning bolt."

I laugh to hide that yes, it feels exactly that was. I can still feel the electricity stinging my heart. I shrug off the feeling.

"And that was Tobias Eaton, by the way. He's a senior."

"What? I've never seen him before."

"Well," she answers, "he's not really that involved in stuff. He's quiet."

I nod my head and change the subject.

"So, my Mcdonald's?"

"Yeah, I didn't forget." We walk downhill. "Let's just reuturn this wagon to Rose first. It's so loud. I think it needs to be oiled."

She continues to babble while I check the paper bag that holds all the money we earned from today.

"Christina, we've got a hundred fifty dollars. That's a lot."

She gasps. "Wow. I disn't notice how much we sold."

I feel like it's too much for me if I take half of it which is seventy-five. I feel like the money could be used in a better way...

"Christina! How about we donate a portion to the orphanage downtown?" I ask excitedly. I've been there a few times before to visit but I've never really donated with my own money. It was always from my father.

"Sure," she answers without second thought. "I think that'll be a great idea."

We walk the streets 'til we get to her house and her mom drives us to Mcdo for lunch.

And even when hours have already past, the blue eyes of Tobias can't seem to get off my mind. They seemed so familiar. It was just like I've seen a ghost. But what bugs ne the most is that feeling he gave me, the way my body and mind reacted to him. It's so unnerving. It felt so... weird. New. And I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

Or maybe I like it a bit too much.


	2. Chapter 2

There is one mirror in our house. Only one. It has been that way ever since we moved in. It is found hanging on the staircase wall.

There aren't any mirrors anywhere else. Not in my room, not in my brother's and not in my parents'. They believed that the more exposed we were to our reflection, the more tempted we would be to look at ourselves. It wasn't like we weren't allowed to own a mirror. We could if we wanted. We just never really cared. We avoided vanity. And I never would've had it any other way.

So, being raised in a household like ours, I never really thought about the way I looked. I would wear the first shirt I could grab and the jeans that looked the most preseantable. I never attempted anything with make-up. So guess how I reacted in seventh grade when my classmates staeted to go to school with red on their lips, pink on their cheeks, violet on their eyelids. I never really understood them, neither the school that went on not stopping them. Seventh grade, we were thirteen years old. Thirteen! And almost every girl was holding another boy's hand! I couldn't understand it at all, being so young. Damaging your face just to look good for some guy who would eventually break your heart in the end or who's heart _you_ would damage. Everyone knew that, including me. Love doesn't last that long. Especially when it's love thought by children. Children do not know much, do they? And we were children.

So I am thankful for the kind of upbringing my parents used. I never, even once, took time to "fix" my face unless we were required to wear make-up like during our graduation and yearbook pictorial.

I am glad that Christina didn't wear make-up either. But I also wouldn't hate her if she did. I don't really have anything against it, but public display of affection... I'm really not used to it. Even up to today.

She shows up at my locker being her usual self except her hair is down and clipped at the sides. She usually tied it in a ponytail. But she haf it cut to her chin last month. It suites her. Her face also carries a smile that beams hundreds of watts which never happened before since she was never (ever) a morning person. I knew that very well.

"What's up?" I ask her.

Her lips pinch together and turn her grin to a small smile. "We're having a project. In our buisness elective."

I raise my eyebrows at her and shut my locker. "That's why you're excited?"

"Who said I was excited?"

We start walking toward English.

"Your face did, Chris." I squint my eyes at her.

She sighs and loops her left arm through her backpack strap. She always wears just one then wears the other whenever she's nervous. I know this because I've observed her pretty well in the past two years.

"I don't know," she answers. "I shouldn't be, but that's the only class I have with Will. He switched electives this sem."

I laugh out loud. "You are unbelieveable, Christina," I mutter.

"I know!" She answers and we take our seats.

English went by like all the rest of the subjects and soon came lunch. We were sitting at our regular table and nobody else was there yet. The loners usually join us, the ones who don't really have a big friend group. Like us.

From where we were seated, you could see almost everyone and all the characteristics they possesed that separated and divided them from each other. The table to our right was seating the happy-go-lucky ninth-graders. They're all in a band. Looney Tunes. They're really good and they got to perform on special school events ever since they were formed which was when they were in seventh grade. I know a few of them but in the ten people seated around their table, I knew Robert the most. We were close before, well, kind of. Actually, to be more acurate, his sister, Susan, was close to my brother, Caleb. So we saw each other a lot. We always shared these glances whnever Susan and Caleb were like flirting in front of us and I didn't know if they were doing it absent-mindedly but it was gross. Well, to me it was. I wasn't that much of a fan of affection that time(until now, actually. But I understand it niw. It's preety much normal).

You could see that we were all divided, cheerleaders here, geeks there and bla bla blah. That's how it stayed. Until today.

"Hey," a boy in black says. "Mind if I sit with you?" He nods his head to the seat beside me. I lift my eyes to see him better then I recognize him, dressed all black, dark skin, wide smile.

"Uriah," I say, taken aback. Why is he here, asking to sit with us? I knew were his place was, I preeety much knew where every student sat so it really suprises me that he's away from his brother, away from the football team. "Sure."

He drops his tray full of food on the table. "Thanks, ladies."

Christina eyes him and she speaks my thoughts. "So," she starts. "What has brought you to sit here with us?"

"Well, Christina. I thought that maybe I could take a break from a full lunch period conversation about sports," he takes a bite from his sandwich and continues. "It sucks to hear it everyday even during breaks. It just makes my head pound."

We nod. But then Christina asks, "Then why don't you sit with the cheerleading chicks?"

He snorts. "All they ever do is giggle and flirt," Christina also snorts at this, "And believe me, I don't get why, either."

Uriah and I have a few classes together, ever since eigth grade, when I moved here.

Out of curiousty, I ask, staring at his plate. "You actually eat that much?"

Christina laughs with a mouthful of water, I'm afraid she'll burst but then she swallows it before any harm is done.

"What?" Uriah asks. "I'm an athlete," he simply states.

"Athletes shouldn't be having fries, chocolate cake, coke, chips and cookies along with their sandwiches," somebody behind me says.

I turn around and I recognize him instantly since I've just seen him yesterday.

"Will," Christina says, more of asks. She sounds surprised. I am.

I make eye contact with her immediately and she shrugs and I show her a grin. Her eyes send darts through me then she looks away.

"Hey, could I sit down with you guys?" He asks us.

Christina nods three times and he takes the seat beside her. I smile to myself. This lunch break is going to be longer than I expected. More exciting too, seeing the way Christina reacts around Will. She's so obvious.

"So, Will. What has brought you here?" I question him. "Not with your math club buddies?"

He shakes his head and answers as he open his milk carton. "Nah. It's kind of akward being there wver since Myra and Edward started dating. And we don't get along that well." He shortly glances at Christina then back down at his food. "I thought I could try something new."

"How about you try these amazing cookies?" Asks Uriah. "I baked them."

I laugh at his response and am also quite surprised.

"You bake?" Asks Christina.

Uriah nods sternly. "Yeah. Of course. Baking is great! You should try it, it's fun."

Christina shakes her head. "I already have. And I almost burned the house down. It happened last..."

She dives into her story and I nod along, hearing this for the fifth time.

We continue to chat, the four of us, getting to know each other better. They've been my schoolmates for two years now and we didn't really know anything about each other. except for each other's names.

After about five minutes, between my conversation with Uriah about football, a girl comes near us. She wears glasses with black frames and her hair is is a pony. I haven't seen her before.

"Hi," she greets us. "I'm Marlene. Could I sit here? Or is it already taken like the rres?" She bounces on the balls of her feet. "I'm sorry if I disturbed your conversation, I just really wanted to sit. I could go-"

"Marlene," Uriak stops her jabbering. "Sit. It's not taken. And you didn't disturb anything."

She smiles. "Thank you. I just really didn't have anywhere to sit, being new, you don't get many friends asap."

We smile at her. "We could be your friends. I'm Uriah, this is Tris, Christina and Will."

We introduce ourselves and tell her about the school. She tells us that her family just moved from California and she was nervous because she knew that friends were always hard to find in places like these. And it's true, friends, they are like berries in the forest. You need to be careful and observe them well because they'll either kill you or save your life.

The lunchbell rings and soon the five of us say goodbye (for now, of course) and we help Marlene with her schedule. She has Biology next so she goes on with Christina while I walk on my own to Chem.

I like Marlene, I feel like we could actually be close. Her body frame's similar to me, except she's a little taller. Her hair is a shade blonder than mine. I'm looking forward to seeing her tomorrow again at lunch.

On the way, I notice the sign-up sheets pinned on the board. I check my watch and I still have five minutes before I'm marked tardy. I have some time. I check the posters that endorse each sport.

The thing I like about this school is that we're free to choose whatever we want. We could be a soccer player, a football player, a volleyball player, no matter what gender.

I notice the poster on the leftmost side. There's a picture of a base and snare drum and a pompom. The pep squad. Drummers and dancers.

I don't know why I'm doong this but I take out my pen and my hand is possesed as I write on the sheet of paper. I step back, not sure if I should walk away or erase my name before it's too late. I bite my lip and stare at the paper and make another move. I sign Christina up, too. I hope she doesn't get mad, she did take gymnastics a few years ago... I don't know but I turn to run and leave, my heart beating fast but then I bump into something and my phone drops and it hits the floor with a crack. Ow.

"Oh, God."

I scramble on my knees to the floor and so does the thing, I mean the person, I bumped into.

"I'm so sorry."

His voice is deep and full. It sounds familiar.

His hands go and fumble for my phone that is now split into three parts. The case, the battery and the phone itself.

I fumble for them too as he repeats "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

He mumbles to himself, " Oh, God. I'm so stupid. Sorry, so-"

I look up to him for the first time and immediately recognize his blue eyes.

"Tris?" He tilts his head as his eyes widen. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry about your phone. I was-"

"No. It was me. I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm the stupid one. I was just so-"

He cuts me off. "No. Don't be sorry. I just broke your phone." He hands it to me, the three parts now assembled and put together.

I take it from him and he stands up. He offers his hand and I take it.

I analyze the phone and press the power switch. It lights up.

"It's okay," I say. 'It's still alive."

I look at his nervous face and smile at him in reassurance.

"It's okay." I say again.

He puffs his cheeks. "I think I should replace it or something."

He lifts his glasses that are similar to Marlene's that's been slipping off the bridge of his nose. Because of the glass his eyes are hiding from, his eyes don't look much like the ocean. They look like the sky. The thick black frames also make him look like a college student and I realize why he didn't seem familiar.

He doesn't know what to do and I don't either so I speak up. "I'm not sure we've properly met." I stick out my hand. "I'm Tris."

He nods and shakes my hand. I can tell he isn't used to this either. "I'm Tobias Eaton and I am so sorry about your S4."

I shrug. "It's okay. Nothing bad happened anyway. I dropped this millions of times before so you don't need to worry."

I glance at my watch. "I think I should get going." I point behind me.

He nods and pulls on his backpack. "Yeah, me too."

He looks down and stuffs his hands in his pockets then looks up again. "But could I make it up to you?"

"And how would you do that? You don't need to." I tell him.

"But I want to." He smiles and backs away and then the bell rings.

"I'll see you around, Tris."

And only now, in the middle of a lecture about bacteria, do I realize thatI didn't tell him my name the first time we met. He didn't tell his, either. So how did he know mine?


	3. Chapter 3

The moment green slowly turns orange, the moment leaves of paper slowly leave the branches of its mother's tree, that moment of change. The smell of the air as leaves create mountains, as those mountains explode into volcanoes once they are jumped on by the joyous children. I feel like that pile of raked leaves, suddenly disturbed and awakened from my slumber.

My head suddenly shoots up at the voice of sir Martinez. "Each group will consist of six members."

My ears perk up and my eyes don't have to struggle that much to stay open at that mention. Sir Martines paces around the room, pausing between each sentence to fix the spectacles he wears, to stop it from falling off his bublous nose.

"The Elective Wars will be held in two weeks. It will last for a month and since this is Buisness you're taking, the results will be the basis of your grade." He walks around the classroom and heads back to his table. "Each group will be handling a booth. Any kind. Games, food, dry goods, you name it. You'll be free to choose."

My eyes finally flash to Christina's in excitement.

"But, hold your horses." Sr. Martinez raises his hands in front of him in a stop gesture. "Don't get too excited. I'm choosing the groupmates."

The whole class sighs and slouches at that mention.

Sir smiles. "Any questions?"

The boy seated two seats behind me raises his hand.

"Yes," sir Martinez calls.

"If this is like the basis of our grade, why will the other classes be doing the same?"

"Ah." Sir answers and claps his hands together. "Good question Peter. Well, it's actually required for all classes. It's just a chance to test your skills."

"But where will the money go?" Peter asks again.

Sir Martinez's eyes are hard on Peter's emerald ones, his expression slightly stiffer. "The faculty's still discussing this topic."

"Are we required to participate in this project?"

Their conversation continues fluidy.

"It is the basis of your grade, Peter. You will be marked incomplete if-"

"But the money could be just thrown away to crocodiles. They might go into the hands of those who shouldn't posses it. We can't be forced to do somethjng against our own will, now can we?" Peter's hands communicate their own words as they gesture on and on. His eyes are embers on fire as they burn through the old and tired eyes behind round spectacles.

"The topic is still being discussed. This is a buisness elective you're taking. Not the debate club, Mr. Green."

Peter shrugs nonchantly, his face is placid. "I'm just asking questions, as you asked for them."

They stare with heat at each other an then...

The bell rings.

The tension in the room has suddenly lifted, the fog has cleared. I huff out from the suspence still lingering in the air.

Christina shrugs at me. I take one nore look at Peter and his eyes are already on me. He smiles then winks. He just winked! I raise my eyebrows at him and turn away, blink my eyes twice. What did I just see?

Christina and I meet in front of the doorway

"Why's he like that all the time?" I ask her.

"I don't know," she answers as we head to the next class. "He's been the head of the debate team for the second time now. And he's only a sophomore, our batch. I guess he's just Peter"

I nod my head. I've never noticed him that much. Except for the times he's interoggating Somebody on hallways, classrooms, the cafeteria. I guess he's always like that. And I guess I do notice him since when does he stir rhings up? All the time.

And a chill runs dowm my spine. What was that wink for?

I remember stopping him once. He was bullying the new student a year ago, Clarence. Clarence, the quiet guy.

"How come you don't talk?" Peter asked. "Why don't you speak up?"

Clarence kept silent. His eyes were guarded. But his fists were squeezing.

Then Peter crossed the line when poked a finger at Clarence's chest. "Man up, dude."

"Hey." I cut in. I could feel a fire burning somewhere inside of me. Somewhere, a voice was singing, a drum was beating. I just had to come in. I couldn't take it.

"What makes you think you can talk to him like that?" I asked.

His eyebrows raised and a laugh fell out of his mouth. "What makes you think you can talk to me?" He pointed a finger at me.

I stubbornly placed my hands on my hips as I thought of a reply. I really didn't know why I was doing this. I'd rather walk away but I started in and I'm gonna finish this, whatever this is.

"He isn't doing anything. Leave him alone."

"What, leave him alone? I wasn't keeepkng him company." Peter butterly replies.

I looked around the crowd of the ferwbystanders. Where's Christina?!

"Peter, you just laid a hand on him. You know that bullying, it shows much about your personality. Picking on those much smaller than you? What does it show?"

Clarence is about three inches taller than me but he's still two inches shorter than Peter. Clarence stares at me wide-eyed and alarmed. This probably still isn't singking in. Well, to me it still hasn't.

Clarence nodded at me. "You know," he spoke up. His chest puffed in confidence. "You should probably pick on somebody your own size."

He stood confidently and saved seemingly making him look inches taller. But then he met Peter's vicious eyes and deflated with a shrug.

Peter sighed. "Whatever. Guess I won't get anything here. Boys who still need girls to stand up for them. What does it show?" He smirked and backed away until he dissapeared behind the crowd.

A few from the crowd started to clap then they all dissapeared, seemingly satisfied with the show.. I shook the energy our of my hands that were sweating.

"Are you okay?" I aksed Clarence.

"Yeah. Fine. Thanks. Sorry." He looked down at his shoes. "Thanks for standing up for me." His eyes were now on mine.

"Yeah." I said. "I actually really didn't know what i was doing."

I nodded once more 'til I said. "See you around, Clarence."

That day was unforgettable. I wasn't even that sure if it was real. But real or fantasy, I actually did something. And I was proud.

But Peter's face was unforgettable too, the mischief in his eyes.

So why shouldn't I be creeped out if he just winked at me?

He could be plotting his revenge for the humiliation of a girl making him go away. Well, how could he have been humiliated? He walked away on purpose. Or he made it look like it.

I shrug the feeling away. It's nothing. I'm sure.

But how come through history class, the thought bugs and clangs on the metal safe I keep in the back of my brain?

Something caused Peter's eyes to glow with mischief. Something caused his attitude to be... Obnoxious. Something changed him.

What surprises me is that I want to know what caused these changes.

And I have a feeling I'm gonna find out.

* * *

"Tris."

A shoulder nudges mine. Christina.

"What?"

Her dark brown eyes narrow. "You're so off lately. Ever since lunch." She shakes her head. "Even before lunch."

I shrug. "Just kinda. I don't know. Dazed. Or confused."

Christina stops walking. I stop, too. "Dazed and confused, eh? About what?"

I shrug in response instead of answering.

"You're lying. You know what's it about. You know it, Tris." Her voice isn't accusing, but it isn't that humble, either.

I hate how good she can read me. Her eyes are trained.

I avoid her eyes and start walking forward to my locker. I open it and put in my textbooks while Christina talks, leaning by my side.

"You know, I did see the wink."

I slam my locker shut, my palm flat against the colde metal and close my eyes. "You did?"

I don't know if I should feel relieved or upset that she did. I'm relieved since she might actually help me figure it out. I'm upset she did since she could use it against me. Oh, she loves to tease me.

Christina nods. "Don't think of it as anything. It's kinda creepy, I know. But just don't."

"I'm not."

She smiles a small smile then takes her gaze away from me. "Yeah, sure."

I shake my head and my eyes roll. I'd say 'whayever' but I can't because she's right.

We head towards the doors. We walk in silence and we pass the bulletin board. Then I remember, shoot. I signed her up.

"Uhm, Chris?" I ask nervously. I wonder how she'll take this.

"Hm?"

"Wanna go out for donuts?" I offer with a small smile. She might take it better.

Chris faces me and eyes me up then down then glances behind me, the board. Her eyes focus on me again.

"Don't tell me..." She starts.

I block her view of the boards. "I'm not saying any-"

"Christina, Tris." A voice calls. Uriah jogs toward us. He places a hand on each of our shoulders as he stands between us. "Congratulations. Cheer for me, will ya? Pep squad, hm?"

Oh. No.

"What?" Asks Christina, indecorously. "What pep squad. I didn't sign-" she faces me slowly with shut eyes.. "No way."

Her eyes open then pierce through mine and I can't make up what they're trying to tell me. Mad? Upset? Betrayed? Excited? Nervous? Thankful?

Her eyes close once more and when they open, she takes in a breath.

"You signed up for the pep squad." She asks/states.

I nod slowly in reply while I bite my lip. It feels so much like a mistake. I regret it already

My heartbeat picks up thinking of the posibility of her leaving me because I signed her up without her consent.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know what was happening! I swear, the pen was possesed in my hands. I really-"

"Shut up." She shuses me with a hand in my face. But then she grins.

"I can't believe it!" She tackles me in a hug and squeezes me to death.

"Heyy," I hug her back and cling to her just to catch my balance. My forehead scrunches in confusion. "So, you're not mad?" I ask carefully.

She pulls back. "Mad? Why on earth would I be mad? You just made such a big move I never thought you'd make. And we're gona be cheerleaders!" She squeals.

Uriah fake coughs to get our attention. "Try-outs are tomorrow, girls. The team cap's gonna decide who's in and who's out. Not yet official, Christina."

I nod. "Yeah. And I kinda signed you up as a dancer since you did take gymnastics before. And I just went in as a drummer."

She grins even wider. "That's great."

As we race home in our bikes, I think of how happy I am, how thankful and grateful I have been ever since Chris came. I glance at her riding by my left in her violet bike with the wind pushing her short black hair back. I'm so glad she's here. I'm so glad that even if I don't remember much, she's here for me. And I love that she tells me so much stories about her past when I can't remember any from mine.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Don't go. Stay. Please._ "

I shoot up from the bed, beads of sweat covering my body. I can feel my heart beat in my chest faster than ever before.

I glance at the digital clock on my nightstand which reads 2:55 am. I close my eyes once more. Another memory. The same memory.

The same memory that has been bothering me, replaying in my head over and over again for the past four years. Again and again haunting me in my dreams.

The memory of my mom. The mother I cannot remember much of. The mother I have lost.

I can't go back there. Not after reliving that scene for the hundredth time. The scene of blazing sirens, the smell of bile, bright white lights, busy people, wires and connectors, the richness of red blood.

No. I will not go back there. So instead I head to the kitchen.

After drinking a glass of milk while repeatedly checking the clock, I'm back in bed by 3:30. But I contemplate. Should I sleep once more and go back to memories I can no longer remember but where I suffer.

I need sleep! But I just wish that my mind could show me another memory. Just one other memory. A memory of happiness. Please.

But in the middle of debating to sleep or not... My eyes droop close until I can feel myself falling onto the cloud of slumber and I dream of nothing but whiteness.

* * *

"Today's the day." Uriah tosses a fry at me. "Try-outs."

I nod. "Yup."

"Good luck." He tells me and Christina.

Chris snorts. "Luck? We don't need such a thing."

Uriah laughs. "Woah. Somebody's gotta ego fever."

"Says the junkfood eating athelete," pipes Will.

Uri stares at him blankly. "I'm an athelete." He smiles smugly as we roll our eyes.

"Hey!" Marlene greets us as she sits beside Uriah on the bench. We greet her a quick hey but the shirt she wears causes me to take a double-take.

"Marlene?" Christina stares mouth open. "Oh my God. No way!"

Uriah and Will seem to notice how caught up we are and I watch as their eyes slowly widen with realization. We all stare at her shirt.

"What," asks Marlene, cluelessly as she glances at her shirt.

The four of us make eye contact. And our eyes all go back to Marlene's shirt.

"Is that Barney?!"

Marlene's eyes widen with realization. Her cheeks tint pink and her mouth drops. She examines her white shirt with a grinning purple dinosaur in the middle. "Holy sh-"

She rubs her eyes. Blinks. Stares at her shirt. Rubs her eyes again. "Oh my God. This is my sister's! My nine year old sister! What the hell?"

We burst out laughing and my head slams on the table as I clutch my stomach. Uriah pounds on the table. Will double overs.

"Your. Glasses." Christina manages to choke out.

Marlene laughs along with us. "Lost! So that's why I've been thrown odd stares and could hear whispers in the hall like wtf!"

We laugh some more. "How could that fit you?" I ask her. A sixteen year old wearing a shirt of a nine year old?

"I don't know either," she answers. "I thought it was a violet flower!"

Yes. Barney mistaken as a flower.

We slowly come silent again, seemingly returned to Earth from our own universe. But as we all make eye contact again, the laughs we keep trying to keep clamped with smiles suddenly burst out. And we're back on our rocketship again.

* * *

Marlene, Will and Uriah accompany us as we head to the field. Christina ties her hair as I tie my shoelaces. Here goes.

"Goodluck guys!" They tell us and walk slowly backwards toward the bleachers. "We'll be right here. Bur we're leaving in a few minutes."

I smile at them warmly and look down at myself in leggings and a plain white t-shirt. "Do I look okay?" I ask Chris.

She takes time to look at me from head to toe and she smiles. "You're fine. As pretty as always."

I snort. "Wow. You should've signed up for the baby-sitting club. You sure know how to kid."

She raises her eyebrows and lets out a small laugh. Her right hand goes in front of her and she raises one finger. "First of all. There's no such thing as a baby-sitting club in this school, but I have heard of such in a book. And second," she raises two fingers. "You signed me up. I didn't sign-up for anything."

I nod, defeated. "Got a point. Let's go!"

We jog towards the sound of the drums. I hear the heavy bass and the quick snare hits. It's what I'm signing up for. I couldn't be more excited. I see a few people, some wearing the pep squad's varsity jackets, some just as plain as Christina and I. About half of the people I see are to try out. I see a few familiar faces, and some completely unkown to me. Some are excited, some look nervous. Most, a mix of all.

Chris takes my hend and leads me to a where a few girls stand and she tries to help me join in on conversation. But all I could hear was the beat of the drums.

After meeting the head dancer, Lauren, and giving us a few encouraging words and the story about her audition, we were called to center.

Lauren auditioned whem she was a freshman. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to try-out since she didn't know anybody who wanted to try-out. But then one of her close friends encouraged her to join, and so she did because he did too. Turns out, this friend is the now team captain.

A boy, perhaps a senior, stands on the third level bleacher, wearing the varsity jacket. I still don't know who he is because his back is toward us. His hands gesture toward the girl and boy by the drums and everything goes silent except for a few hushed whispers. The boy with the number four on the back of his blue jacket finally turns around. And now the front of his jacket shows his surname. Eaton.

"Okay," He claps his hands together as his deep masculine voice echoes around us. I notice how the dark blue jacket gives a slight contrast to his eyes, showing the difference of the ocean and the sea. "Welcome everybody. I'm the team captain, you can call me Four more preferably than Tobias. Today is the try-outs for those who signed up. Don't worry, try-outs for the pep squad aren't that hard. Let me give you all a brief intro about this team. Compared to the other varsity teams, we are about only a third of them as the supply of team members are running out. Well, we started out much more than this but the other teams seem get our recruits after they train with us, leaving on their senior year. Many transfer to track, volleyball, swimming, etc." His eyes roam around the crowd and they somehow stop searching when he sees me. He smiles a small smile then continues. "I trust that each of you are willing to take sacrifices for this team, and if you do not have the passion or determination to cheer for this school, especially if you just went in so that you'd be excused frome P.E. class, you might as well get out now."

He paces on the wooden plank. "By the end of the week, the list of those who will be part of the line-up will be lisyed. If you are part of this list, you will be excused from classes whenever a game will occur on a school day. Especially because the basketball team is the source of our resources, the school putting their attention much more on the competing teams. Yes, we do not compete."

He nods and faces us, jumps down tthe second level. "Training will be held everyday from 4:00-5:30 pm have three unexcused absences and you'll be kicked out of the team. We start with two laps of jogging, core exercises then the drummers and dancers will be split to do their own things. We take training very seriously here. Here in the pep squad..."

"Pep is a must!" The teammate chant together.

"Questions?" Tobias asks with a smile.

A girl raises her hand and Tobias nods ro her. "Where's the coach?"

"Ah." He answers as he looks from Lauren beside me to the others in jackets as well. "Well, he isn't here. He, or she, has a 9-5 job so she just catches up whenever she can. But it's very rare that she comes, most of the time she comes when it's the game season. So you don't need to ask, our coach is gay. But reffer to her as a lady, 'kay?" He smiles to us all. "We lift each other up here on this team and we can reach the top, with a coach or without a coach."

The team members start to clap so we do too. "Let's go DHS," Lauren shouts.

"Fight!" The rest replies.

And right here, staring at them, I know that I want to be part of this. And I'm going to work hard for it.

"Jog!" The team captain shouts and start to head to the field. And we all follow.

* * *

After the two laps of an endless, breath-taking jog and two sets of the core exercies, drummers and dancers split up. I say bye to Christina and give her a thumbs up.

We stand kn the bleachers as I assesthe others. There are ten original members, seven try-outs. On the right are the snare drummers, on the left, the bass. I stand behind a girl I have one class with, also signing up.

Tobi-. Four stands ipon us. "So, let's introduce ourselves. Since you already know me, let's start with you." He points to his left.

The boy takes off his jacket, perhaps the same age as Tob- Four. He grins and he suddenly has a resemblance to Uriah but with olive skin instead of chcolate dark. "Hi, I'm Ezra, snare drummer since last year. Senior."

We nod and the girl beside him goes next. After getting to know the snare drummers Ezra, Laela, Ren, Ned, Faith and Nash, it's time for our introduction. Two people stand in front of me, one behind.

"I'm Dan. A junior."

"My name's Lynn. Sophomore."

My turm. "I'm Tris. Sophomore." I smile a nervous but sincere smile to them all. Tobias smiles at me. I mean, Four. Why do I always forget?

And now the boy behind me introduces himself. "I'm Clarence. Sophomore."

 _What_! I turn around to face him, wide-eyed. The boy who stands before me... Isn't a boy anymore. He looks almost like a senior. Clarence, the timid, akward, silent boy.. Is no longer timid and akward. Still silent, though, since I didn't notice him until now. He doesn't wear any glasses anymore. But his green eyes are now wooden brown.

He smiles at me and I'm greeted by dimples. I smile back. I really disn't expect him here. I didn't expect myself here, either.

I face back to the group and listen to the introductions once more as I discover Tobias has been a bass drummer since ninth grade. He's also learned to play snare in the last two years and now, of course. Who else could be the team cap?

Four clears his throat. "So we'll teach you three game beats today and and the end of the week, those who master them are in. Faith, you teach snare."

Faith nods "Come," she calls. And I suddenly remember. She's part of the Looney Tunes.

After thirty minutes, we already learned the two beats. One for defense, one for offense. We were given drumsticks but we were required to buy our own once we were official members.

I sat in between Ezra and Clarence on the bleachers as we practiced on the wood. Clarence was a pro. He was the first to master the beats. Ezra still has difficulty but he's good. Lynn's hits are the loudest, stronger than even the boy's. It's like she's taking out her anger kn the poor and beaten ply wood. Me, well I can't really tell. But I hope I'm fine.

The drummers teach us the last beat and by 5:15 we're playing the three beats without difficulty.

"Nice," Ezra raises his hand and I high-five it.

"Thanks."

Ned speaks. "Last fifteen minutes. Let's join in with the bass."

We head to the rest and we sit bass drummer facing snare drummer.

Four sits at the end. He hits his drumsticks together.

"Five, six, five, six, seven, eight."

The rythm is enchanting, it matches the beat of my heart as it skips and dances. The sensation is overpowering that I can't help but smile at the creation we are all contributing to.

With five minutes to spare, Four calls everybody.

I meet up with a prespiring Christina.

"Hey!" I greet her.

"Hey! How was it?" She asks me.

"Do you have to ask?" I answer.

She hugs me with a smile.

Lauren and Faith stand in front of the crowd. "Let's give a hand to everybody. Everyone seems to be fit for the team, fast learners and not so noisy unlike the past batch."

A round of applause passes and a beat is played through the snare. The beat for a three-point shoot, I reckon.

"So we'll see you all tomorrow and by Friday, the list will be pinned. That's all. Let's go DHS!"

"Fight!" We all respond.

I smile at Christina. "So, I'm glad you weren't mad I signed you up."

"I already told you I'm not. Why would I be?" She smiles at me.

We get our bags and drink water before heading to the comfort room. But before we leave the bleachers, Four unexpectedly approaches me.

"Tris," he smiles shyly.

I return his expression. "Hi."

"I, uh," he starts. Suddenly, he can't look me in the eyes. "I'm glad you joined. You looked kind of hesatative when I saw you sign up."

"Ah." I laugh a little bit. "Yeah. I really wasn't sure."

He nods. "But you made a great desicion."

I nod too. "Yeah. Guess I did."

He fumbles with the zipper of his jacket. "Well, I'll see you at training tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course." I answer and shake my hair ouy of its ponytail. "Thanks, Tobias. I mean Four."

I really forget! He just looks more of a Tobias than a Four, especially when he smiles that causes his eyes to twinkle.

Four laughs. "See you around, Tris."

I nod then go back to Christina's side.

"Oooh. What was that," she nudges my shoulder.

I raise my eyebrows. "Shut up, Chris. It was nothing, obviously."

"Obviously," she mocks me. "Deffensive much?" She smirks.

I shake my head and sprint to the comfort room to change. I run away from her questions, her suspicion and away from the boy with a number as a name.

Away from the danger zone.


End file.
